


can i rewrite it?

by flxss



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Drunkenness, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27233785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flxss/pseuds/flxss
Summary: a look back on the moment richard remembers most, and the one he regrets perhaps most
Relationships: Jared Dunn/Richard Hendricks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	can i rewrite it?

I remember when I first thought about it, about him, like that. It was stupid and menial, a regular day. I had finalized some tiny section of code and was celebrating over fixing the issue after many days of hard work. Gilfoyle took out some beers and passed them to Dinesh and me while Jared walked in the front door. We sat there cheering and he looked over at me, confused over what the occasion was. In the seconds where I told him, this tiny victory for us, the way his expression lifted into a sweet smile at me changed everything. His eyes widened and I couldn’t help but blush at what felt like an insight on his behalf; it felt as though he knew exactly what i was thinking. 

He stood by the door, put down his bag and looked straight at me, still smiling. I found myself looking straight back at him, it felt like a private moment despite Dinesh and GIlfoyle sat bickering next to me. My blinking face was warm with affection for the tall man in front of me, suddenly I was confronted by the consequences of my own feelings. His eyes were a vacuum, empty and full of the universe. It was scary and wonderful. 

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer, then passed it over to him. When I pushed the cold beverage into his hand, I could feel his warm fingers brush against mine. I resisted the urge to look into his eyes, dreading how I could feel they were on me. I think I did look in them, at the last moment. They weren’t looking at me anymore. It would be a while before I dared to meet his glance again. We both walked over to the couch, and stayed there for the rest of the night, talking and celebrating as Pied Piper. Even now, I can remember my furtive glances at him as he talked animatedly of the future, what could be. It felt like I had stripped back a layer of his being and I was now finally seeing him how I should see him. It made sense. 

When we went to bed we all stumbled up, knocking over a few bottles. Gilfoyle and Dinesh used each other for support as they crashed into their rooms. They were hitting against the door frames in a way which was sure to leave a bruise in the morning. At least they were happy now, I thought. I tried to stand up from the couch, but tripped on the carpet and was sent back in giggles. Jared was significantly less composed than usual so came flying back from his room to help me up, giggling equally with me. He stretched out his hand for me and pulled me up with his, I could see, strong arms. That was going to be a distraction for a while. Then we stood together in the darkness, inches apart, next to the couch.

What he said is something that I still remember in my darkest hours, when it seems that the future is gone: “Richard, you are astounding. I hope I am always at your side to see your genius triumph”. Better yet, I remember what I whispered in response: “I hope you never leave my side. I don’t work without you. I could feel him smile in the air between us, I guess I returned that smile too. I closed the gap, on petulant impulse, and touched his lips. It was nothing more, though I have certainly thought about more in the years since. The gentle press was gone in an instant when Jared unceremoniously collapsed onto the sofa. We did drink a lot those days. I left him there with a blanket and went to my room, knocking over a half-dozen more bottles. 

Then we went to sleep, carrying on with the usual. The next morning we’d both forgotten it. Well, I didn’t and Jared never mentioned it to me again. He must have forgotten


End file.
